When I told my roommate I wanted to purchase a coffee maker that had both a coffee pot and single-serving coffee maker attached, she said that I already had three. I corrected her. I have a Keurig, an espresso maker and a French press. Each one is used for different types of coffee, for specific days and moods.

I can admit I’m a coffee addict. I see no shame in saying so.  Every morning I have at least three cups of that bitter goodness, and by mid-afternoon, maybe another two cups.

There were times I went without coffee for a day, and my friends were scared to be around me. People say that when they’re hangry, they’re not nice. But when I’m cut off from those grounds that create the bitter, black liquid gold I crave daily, I turn into the Hulk.

My friends know not to wake me or start a conversation until after my first sip of coffee. It’s not that I’m going to bite their heads off, but I’m not mentally present until I’ve had my brain juice.

I haven’t always been this way. I actually hated coffee up until my grandmother passed away.

Growing up, I witnessed her drink coffee nonstop. She always had a coffee in hand, and I never understood why because I thought it was disgusting. To me, she was drinking dirt water. How was that appetizing?

After she died though, I gave coffee a chance. And another … and another … I think you get the idea.

Nowadays, I think I’m worse than she was. I mean, I do own three different coffee makers.

And it’s not like I’m the basic grande, iced, sugar-free, vanilla latte with skim milk coffee drinker either. To me, every coffee drink is for a different mood and time of day.

Mornings are meant for black coffee, an Americano or a shot of espresso. That bitter taste wakes my brain and body, and that’s a necessity in the morning.

Throughout the day, I usually stick to black coffee to keep my mood content.

If I’m feeling like I deserve a treat mid-afternoon, I’ll treat myself to a grande hot, double-shot cappuccino with cinnamon powder steamed in skim milk.

Usually I stop drinking coffee at 5 p.m., but if I have something I need to stay up for, I’ll make a pot and have a couple cups of black coffee.

I always say the last thing I want to consume before I die is a cup of hot, black coffee, and I’ll stand by that until, well, the day I die.

Contact Shelbie Goulding at [email protected].